


Escape the Living Dead

by RBnC



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-12
Updated: 2014-03-23
Packaged: 2018-01-08 11:28:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1132098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RBnC/pseuds/RBnC
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It had seemed like a normal day; Scott and Stiles were all packed up for their trip, they were all set to leave after their shifts ended that night. They didn't think everything was going to get this crazy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Alright, so we've got everything packed! After my shift I'll head over here, and we'll hit the highway!" Scott sums up the lengthy explanation Stiles had just given him.

"Yes, Scott. That's the plan." Stiles rolls his eyes as he shuts the trunk to his old, beat-up Jeep.

"I'm just double-checking, Stiles, jeez." Scott throws his arm over his best friend's shoulder, pulling him into an uncomfortable hug.

It's not uncomfortable because they're not close, but because Scott McCall, Sheriff of Raccoon City, is in full uniform with his belt, which is digging into Stiles's side. Allison, longtime friend, laughs at their antics, hugging Stiles from his other side.

"You're going to be late, Scott."

"Oh! Thanks!" Scott detangles himself and makes for the cruiser he'd driven over to the Stilinski household.

"See you when shift ends!" Scott gets into his cruiser and drives off.

"I swear your ex is a basket case." Stiles mock-glares at Allison, who still has her arm thrown over his shoulder.

"He's your best friend." she counters, shrugging and dropping her arms.

Stiles shrugs his shoulders, "Need a lift?"

"If you don't mind." Allison smiles, trying to sweet talk him into doing everything she wants.

"Hop in." He nods towards his jeep.

She smiles at him again, jumping into the passenger seat while the shorter-haired brunet climbs into the drivers' seat. He throws it in reverse and backs out of his one-car drive way and makes his way off Euston Street.

"How can you guys be planning a week-long trip and only have like three bags with you?!" Allison demands, glaring at the space behind her seat, which Stiles uses for storage.

"We're men. We need; five pairs of clothing, the shoes we're wearing, our wallets, and we're good." Stiles laughs at her sour face while he turns onto Mission Street.

"Thank you, Stiles." Stiles looks over at her, surprised by her serious tone.

"It's no problem. You don't live that far."

"I meant, thank you for being so understanding about…everything. After Scott and I broke up, I thought I'd be alone. You know I don't have that many friends."

"You have Lydia." Stiles alternates between looking at Allison in his passenger seat and the road in front of him.

"That's different. She doesn't like talking about…real things and- STILES LOOK OUT!"

Stiles looks ahead and swerves to avoid some ass hat standing in the middle of the road, but to no avail; he still hits the guy.

Hard.

When Stiles gets his car to screech to a halt, his left hand is in a white knuckle grip on the wheel and his right is thrown out to his right, in an instinct to protect Allison. He's breathing heavily, but he tries to calm himself and looks at Allison. Allison is pale and wide eyed, with her hands against the dash as if to brace herself.

"Oh my god, I think I've killed someone!"

Allison is undoing her seatbelt and is out the door before Stiles can say anything else. He sees her rush to the man he's hit via his passenger mirror. Something looks wrong as she kneels next to him. There's no way he should be alive – his neck is bent at an impossible angle and both legs are splayed in disgusting directions – and yet he's moving.

After getting his belt off, Stiles turns in his seat and grabs the Elephant Killer his father makes him take on their trip every year. He pushes his door open and makes his way over towards Allison and the man they'd – he'd – hit and keeps the gun hidden behind his back.

"Allison, come here for a second." Stiles's voice definitely does not raise a couple octaves as the guy tries to push himself up.

"Stiles' he's alive! We have to get him to a hospital!"

"And we will, just come here for a second!"

As Allison makes her way back to him, the man – and there is no way he could be alive and functioning because Stiles can see his  _fucking_  spleen falling out of a hole in his gut – starts crawling after her. Stiles leaps forward and grabs Allison as the man pushes himself to unsteady, broken feet.

"Oh my god!" Stiles has seen plenty of horrific things working as Head Nurse for Raccoon County Hospital, but this is beyond anything he's ever seen.

Allison turns around and screams, jumping back behind Stiles.

"What the hell!?"

"I don't know!"

"Is that a-"

"I don't know!" Stiles snaps as the thing tries to walk forward and crumples back onto the floor.

"Shoot it!"

"No!" Stiles shouts, sarcastic.

"Fucking shoot it before it gets up again!"

The once-man pushes himself up and reaches out towards them, "Stiles! Shoot it or I will!"

Stiles jumps as the thing lets out a ghastly shriek. Its eyes are almost completely white as they stare at the two of them hungrily. Stiles takes a deep breath and squeezes the trigger on his fathers' Magnum, splattering the things brains everywhere.

Stiles takes a deep breath again, trying to stop his hands from shaking.

"Stiles, we need to get in the car and go to the police station."

"And do what? Tell them I shot a Zombie!?"

"I don't know and don't say that!"

"Say what?"

"That word! The…Zed word."

"That's what is was Allison. That is what I would call the walking corpse I just shot."

"It was…not a walking corpse."

"Oh, I'm sorry. The crawling corpse. Is that better for you?"

"It wasn't a corpse!"

"It's spleen was hanging out!"

"Adrenaline can do wonders-"

"Not like that!"

"Look, lets' just call the police and – STILES LOOK OUT!" Allison tackles him out of the way as a car speeds past them and crashes into Stiles' Jeep.

"MY JEEP!" Stiles calls out, shocked.

"Are you okay, Stiles?" Allison asks, standing up.

"I'm fine, but m-"

"If you say my Jeep, I'm going to hit you!" Allison tells him.

"But – ugh – fine." Stiles stands up, too.

"Do you think they're still dead?" Allison asks.

"More than likely."

"Do you think they're…undead?"

"More than likely. Wait a minute…we can say undead but we can't say zombie!? And since when were you on the zombie ban-wagon, you just said -"

A blood curdling moan sounds from the other car.

"Okay, we need to go. Now." Allison pulls Stiles arm, trying to get him to walk.

"Wait! I need to get into the Jeep!"

"It's not worth it, whatever it is!"

"Allison, just – if anything gets out, shoot it!" Stiles shoves his fathers' gun into Allison's hands.

"Stiles!" The nurse ignores his friends words and goes around the crash to the back of his Jeep and throws out his bag, leaving Scott's where it is, and pulling out the small box of ammunition that was next to the gun under the seat.

Stiles pockets his keys and wallet as well as the ammunition before making his way back around to Allison.

"It can't get out of the car, but I really don't feel comfortable staying here, Stiles, we need to go."

"I know, I just had to get the ammo from the Jeep. This thing only has three shots left."

"You only have four bullets loaded?"

"It's for safety! I didn't think I was going to be surviving the fucking zombie apocalypse."

"You're so paranoid! You don't know it's an apocalypse-"

The zombie in the car moans again, spurring Stiles and Allison into motion. The two brunet's make their way down the street as quickly as they can, Allison looking in every direction as Stiles loads more bullets into his fathers' gun.

"How far until your house?" Stiles asks, placing the rest of the bullets back in his pocket and cocking the gun.

"Um, it depends."

"On what?"

"Do we start jumping fences or do we walk down the street."

"I'd say street."

"Four blocks. Maybe twenty minutes? If we run we could do it in…ten, fifteen?"

"Good thing we were in cross country." Stiles comments, smiling grimly.

"Yeah…good thing." Allison mutters as they start running down the streets.

"I haven't seen a single person all day!" Stiles comments.

"Yeah, until you crashed into one." Allison snips.

"I'm not living that down, am I?"

"If we live, no."

Ten minutes later has them entering Allison's loft, which sits above her family's gun store – which is convenient, Stiles thinks – and relaxing somewhat. Allison motions to the T.V. as she heads into the back of the house to do Stiles' doesn't know what.

Turning on the T.V. is unsettling because Channel 3 News is reporting multiple attacks of cannibalism being called in. Channel 8 News tells him that the highway has collapsed for unknown purposes. Channel 12 News tells him that Police are no longer answering or responding to calls. The guy on Channel 48 – who technically doesn't report news – tells him to stay inside and wait for law enforcement to come and get them. Stiles thinks he's an idiot because he once told people they could make glow sticks out of Mt. Dew and ammonia. Dumbass.

Stiles is shocked when Allison's house phone starts ringing. Stiles jumps on it, answering, "Hello?"

"Stiles? What are you doing at Allison's?"

"Um, emergency? Lydia?"

"Yeah, we need you here at the hospital! Things are going crazy! Everybody is sick and some of the patients are getting restless and bite-y." Allison walks back into the living room holding a ring of keys tightly to her chest.

"Have any of them bitten you, Lydia?"

"No, why?"

"Lydia, don't let any of them bite you, okay?"

"Of course not, Stiles. Why are you so freaked out?"

"You wouldn't believe me."

"Tell me, Stiles!"

"I just had to shoot a guy who was trying to eat Allison."

"Have you called the police?"

"His spleen was hanging out of his body. He was dead, Lydia."

"Are you trying to tell me he was a Zombie?"

"I'm not trying, Lydia. Look, I'll be there as soon as I can! We're going to have to hoof it 'cause my baby just got totaled and Allison's car has been in the shop for a week now."

"Fine, but if you're right and not crazy, be careful, Stiles. Take care of Allison."

"I know, Lydia. Just…stay there for as long as it's safe. If it gets un-okay -"

"Un-okay isn't a word, Stiles. But I'll be in the first floor lounge if things do get bad."

"Yeah, that sounds good. See you soon. I hope." Stiles hangs up and turns to Allison, who hands him an empty duffle bag.

"What's this for?"

"Weapons. If we're going back out there, we're going to need weapons."

"Smart. Good thing I know the owner of the store downstairs."

"Think she'll give you a discount?"

"Not a chance in hell." Stiles smiles at Allison as they make their way downstairs and into Argent's Gun Shop.


	2. Chapter 2

When Scott gets to the Police Station that morning, he isn't expecting to see the front room in such disarray. Instantly, he panics and pulls out his firearm, calling out for anyone there.

"Hello?" He asks as he makes his way down the left corridor.

"This is Sheriff McCall, if you're there, put your hands up. If you have a weapon, drop it." When he turns the corner, he's shocked to see Greenburg dead on the floor with his chest ripped open and his entrails everywhere.

Scott freezes for a second before steeling himself and quickly walking forward, past Greenburg. He continues to make his way through the halls. As he rounds a corner, he hears a gun fire and quickly ducks back, avoiding getting hit.

"This is Sheriff Scott McCall! Cease fire immediately or I  _ **will**_  shoot you!" He orders.

"Shit! Sorry!" Calls an unfamiliar voice before a bit of stumbling.

Scott rounds the corner to see an equally unfamiliar face in an RPD uniform. The young man – not that much older than his, in all actuality – is thin, with blondish hair and prominent cheek bones.

"You must be the new transfer, Lahey."

"Yes, sir. I apologize, but those damn mutts are roaming around and I couldn't be too careful. They're awful quick."

"Dogs? You were aiming at our dogs?"

"There's something weird going on, Sheriff."

"Call me Scott, what do you mean something weird?"

"I mean a man came into the station while I was waiting for you and he tried to attack Deputy Reyes and her boyfriend. I put six bullets in him before she snapped his neck and he finally went down. Then more guys came in and some of them got to the kennels and ever since then the dogs have been acting weird. If I didn't know any better, I'd say they were all Zombies, sir."

"I'd say a zombie could do that to Greenburg."

"The man in the hallway with his…" he gestures to his stomach area.

"Yeah. Where are Erika and Boyd?"

"They are in the holding cells, talking to the man they arrested earlier this morning."

"Alright, we're going to the holding cells. Let's go."

"Sir, don't you think it would be better to stay here-"

"Power in numbers. Let's go." Scott turns and takes point, going back the way he came and leading the rookie to the holding cells.

Lahey gets a bit squeamish around Greenburg and Scott thinks it's totally unjustified until Greenburg grabs his damn leg. Scott reacts quickly, shooting him in the head, and Greenburg falls limp again.

"You okay?" Scott asks, placing a hand on the worried Rookie's arm.

"I am so not trained for this."

"Neither am I." Scott turns around and freezes.

There at the end of the hall way is Sheva, their best k-9. Normally, Scott is her favorite officer. But now, Scott thinks she just wants to tear his face off. If the slice of flesh hanging from her mouth is any indicator, she's already done it to quite a few other officers.

"Shit." Scott cusses.

Scott sighs in defeat when she growls and two more Dobermans walk into view.

"Sir? I told you we should have stayed."

"Staying put is never a good option." Scott raises his gun and picks off the two side dogs before Sheva starts running towards them.

Scott keeps firing and has to dive out of the way as she lunges at them. Scott hears Lahey fire a few shots. Rolling over, he takes aim just as the rookie hits her, stopping her in her tracks.

"Nice shot."

"Thank you." The two stand up, dusting themselves off.

"We should hurry. Don't want any more of them popping up," Scott says as they start running through the halls.

When they get back to the front desk, Scott stops.

"You said a man came in and you had to drop him, right?"

"Yeah?"

"Where's the body? Why didn't I see it when I came in?"

"I…I don't know. It was here when we got separated. I don't know where any of them are."

"We can worry about it later." Scott decides after a few minutes.

The two make their way down the opposite hallway, trying to locate any other officers on their way to Deputy Reyes. Scott stops as he hears a familiar sound. Turning around, Scott sees their largest and meanest k-9 unit; Bruiser.

"Oh shit." Scott faintly hears Lahey mutter that at the same time he does.

Bruiser starts growling at them, and it's a menacing sound. Scott's never been so afraid of a dog before. In fact, he'd always liked dogs. He doesn't think he'll ever look at them the same after this.

Before either man can do anything though, they hear a definite hissing sound coming from beyond the hallway they just came down from. Scott tenses, wondering if things really can get worse than this. His question is answered when a long red…thing snaps out and grabs bruiser, pulling him out of their line of sight. Lahey grabs Scott's sleeve, worried. They can hear whatever grabbed Bruiser and the dog fighting before there's a sick squelch and a loud series of cracks.

Three seconds of silence is all they get before a creature Scott's never seen before walks into their view. It's all red, like it's been skinned, and its brain rests on top of its head instead of eyes. It has large muscles leading to large clawed feet.

"Oh fuck." They mutter together as the thing hisses at them, letting its tongue – which is four feet long at the shortest – slithers its way out of its owner's mouth.

"Run." Scott turns and the two start running down the hallways towards the holding cells.

"SHIT, SHIT, SHIT, FUCK!" Lahey calls, panicking as they reach the doors.

Scott reaches the doors only to realize they're locked.

"DAMNIT!" He calls, turning around to see the thing running at them – on the ceiling he might add – incredibly fast.

Lahey screams next to him while Scott presses his back to the doors. He's not expecting the doors to open behind them, which causes him to fall backwards and land on his tail bone.

"Get inside!" Scott recognizes Erika's voice and scrambles backwards, pulling Lahey along with him.

Scott hears the sniper rifle go off a few times before a loud thump signals that the thing is dead. The Sheriff stands up, breathing raggedly, to look at the thing lying limp on the floor. Erika strides forward with the rifle brace against her shoulder and shoots the creature a few more times in its exposed brain before making her way back towards them.

"Thanks, Erika."

"No problem, McCall." She smiles.

"What was that thing?" Lahey asks, looking like he's on the verge of a panic attack.

"Vernon and I have been calling them Lickers, y'know…cause of-"

"The tongue?" Scott gestures to his mouth, straightening up.

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Where is Boyd?"

"Farther inside with the crackpot we arrested this morning who is turning out to not be a crackpot." She leads them through a few corridors.

When they round the corner, they see Boyd sitting in front of the last holding cell – usually the spot they keep reserved for Matt, the town stalker – reading a magazine that looks way past old.

"Hey, Boyd."

"Hey, McCall. Glad to see someone else is okay." The dark skinned man stands, walking over to Scott and shaking his hand; which is the friendliest Scott has ever seen him be to someone who isn't Erika.

"So who's this guy?" Scott asks, motioning to the – rather attractive – man in the cell.

"Get this. We arrested him this morning because he was raving about the apocalypse."


	3. Chapter 3

“I’m telling you, we should go through the garage, it’s quicker!” Allison argues.

“And I’m telling you it’s a stupid idea! We don’t know if we can get out through the other side, **_AND_** we don’t know if people are inside. And, infected or not, they probably won’t be too willing to let us through!”

“I’m telling you, we can get through! Or would you rather back track _all_ the way down Main Street to get to the hospital?”

“If we would have just done that like I said in the first place, we would have gotten back on track already! We’re making no progress standing in the middle of the street!” Stiles hisses at Allison.

“Then let’s go through the damn garage!”

“I’m telling you; it’s a bad idea!”

“No it’s not, Stiles!”

“If you get bitten or grabbed, I’m leaving you behind.”

“Fine!”

“And you’re not allowed to abandon me, either.”

“That’s hardly fair.” She leads them to the front of the Mechanic’s shop and opens the door, peering inside.

“It’s _your_ crackpot plan.” Stiles snips, handing over his flashlight.

Allison enters, flashlight pointing around in the dark of the room.

“Hello?” She calls, “We’re not here to hurt anyone, it’s just…there’s a crash down the road and we need to get to the hospital. We’re just here to pass through.”

“No one is answering. That’s never a good sign.” Stiles pulls out his other light and walks through the front room to the solid looking door in the back. When he tries to open it, it doesn’t budge an inch.

“It’s locked.” He calls out, his voice low.

“So break it open.”

“Break it open?”

“I know you can, Stiles. I know you’re way stronger than you look.”

Stiles sighs, backing up a few steps before kicking the door in with a loud bang.

“Well if there’s anyone here, they know we’re here too.” Allison comments.

“Fun, fun. If I die here because of you, I am so haunting your ass.”

“Why don’t you just bite me too?”

“You’d shoot me before that ever happened.”

“True. Should we split up a-”

“Allison, you never split up in a Zombie Apocalypse! In **_any_** horror situation!”

“We need to find a way out, and that’s the fastest way. You go over there; I’ll check over here.” Allison moves to the back of the garage while Stiles – begrudgingly – makes his way towards what looks like a door in the opposite direction of the back.

This door is unlocked and Stiles slowly opens it, pulling out his H&K P8 Handgun and taking aim. Stiles does a quick scan of the room before finding the light switch and turning the lights on. He turns around to see a young woman – maybe two or three years younger than him – aiming a small handgun at him. Stiles instantly puts his hands up, his finger off the trigger.

“I’m not here to -”

“Be quiet!”

“My friend and I are-”

“I said be quiet or I’ll shoot you!”

Stiles presses his lips together.

“What are you doing here?”

Stiles looks at her like she’s crazy, “Make up your mind!”

“Tell me!”

“My friend and I are trying to find a way through to the hospital and there’s a huge blockade we can’t get through down the street.”

“Why not go around? Go down another street?”

“That’s what I said.” Stiles lowers his hands.

“Can you show me how to get through?”

“You can’t. There’s a huge fence around the property, it’s covered in barbed wire. My brother put it up so people wouldn’t try to steal the scrap metal.”

“That’s perfect.” Stiles mutters to himself, “I’m just gonna grab Al-”

The sound of a shotgun going off interrupts the brunet.

“Allison!?”

“Derek?”

“ALLISON?!” Stiles runs back the way he came.

“DEREK, DON’T SHOOT!” Stiles runs into the darker room, the light from the other room illuminating parts of it.

Derek – Stiles is guessing – turns around right as Stiles almost runs into him. Stiles avoids the collision by throwing his weight to the side and barely making it by the man. Stiles reacts more than thinks when the larger man aims his shotgun at the brunet. Stiles pushes the gun to the side right before it goes off. The nurse grabs the more muscled arm, lifting him bottom half up behind the offender and wrapping his legs around the larger man’s neck and using the momentum to throw him off balance and, ultimately, bring him down to the floor.

Acting quickly, Stiles rolls away and grabs the shotgun. He empties the shells, kicking them to one side of the room before throwing the gun in the opposite direction. He runs in the direction Allison went.

“Allison?!”

“I’m okay! I’m okay!” Stiles slides onto his knees and stops next to Allison, who is crouched down on the floor.

“It was just a warning shot, they didn’t hit me!”

“God, you scared me! I told you we shouldn’t have split up!”

“Derek? Are you alright?!”

“Cora, I told you to stay inside!”

“Can someone turn on the lights in here?” Allison calls from her spot on the floor.

Stiles helps Allison up as the light clicks on. Stiles dusts off his pants and looks up to see a very pissed, very hot man glaring at him.

“You took _him_ down?”

“Yeah…I guess. More instinct than anything. Guess Yoga and Martial Arts with Danny paid off.”

“I’m guessing so.”

“What are you doing breaking into my garage?” The man snaps.

“We were just looking for a way through.”

“Yeah? Well did you ever stop to think the door was locked for a reason?!” He scowls at them.

“We’re sorry, okay? We’ll go, you can board up your stupid door, everyone wins.” Stiles huffs.

“Did you stop to think those thing could have followed you? Or the noise could have attracted them?”

“Not really!”

“How selfish do you have to be to-”

“Derek, stop. They’re just trying to survive!” Cora interrupts.

“They’re going to get **_us_** killed! They were probably followed by zombies or looters or-”

“I bet you’re fun at parties.” Stiles comments, crossing his arms.

Derek turns and Stiles thinks he’s going to explode. There’s a vein in his neck pulsing and there’s a tick in his jaw. Stiles really shouldn’t find it so hot, all things considered.

“Get out!”

“Gladly. Can we get out through the back?”

“No, there’s a ba-”

“Barbed wire fence, yeah, your …girlfriend, or whatever, told me. Is there a gate or a way we can get through the fence?”

“Eww!”

 “Cora is my sister -”

“Sister, whatever, is there a way?”

“Not unless you know how to hop a barbed wire fence unscathed.”

“Yeah, it’s not too hard. You got a thick rug? Or a tarp?”

The man just looks at him like he’s grown another head.

“I really don’t think we’re in a position to be asking favors, Stiles.” Allison comments.

Stiles goes to respond, but he’s interrupted, “What kind of name is _Stiles_?”

“The kind that says fuck you, that’s what kind.”

“I have had it-”

“Derek, stop!” Cora rushed forward and grabs her brother’s arm.

“You wanna come at me again? Cause that went _so well_ last time!”

“You little shit-” Derek seethes.

“Okay, we’re leaving before you get both of us killed by a human in a zombie apocalypse.” Allison commands.

“I thought we weren’t using the Zed word.”

“Are you really going to get snarky with me?”

“I can’t just turn it off, Allison.”

“Are you on drugs or something?!” Derek questions, looking angrier and angrier by the minute.

“Well, I did have a FUCK!”

“You had a what?”

“I didn’t grab my Adderall. It was in the Jeep when it got hit and I didn’t grab it!”

“Stiles, you’re fine. You’ll be fine! If we get out of this I will pay, out of pocket, for more medication.”

“That’s not going to help if I can’t sit still and it gets the two of us eaten!”

“You.”

“Me what?”

“You’ll get eaten. I’ll leave you behind.”

“I told you, you can’t do that.”

“Are you two done yet?!” Derek snaps.

“That was rude.” Stiles comments.

“Stiles.” Allison chides.

Stiles sighs, put out, “Fine. Yes, we’re done.” He sits there, hips cocked to one side, arms crossed, waiting.

“Alright, we’ll get out of your hair now.” Allison pushes Stiles towards the back of the garage.

“Wait!” Cora calls.

“Damnit, Cora, let them go!”

“Are you guys getting out of the city?”

“That’s the end game, yeah.” Allison says before Stiles can get a comment in.

“Then will you take me with you? Derek doesn’t want to go, but I don’t want to stay and I’m afraid to go out there alone.”

“Fine by me.” Stiles replies.

“Cora, you’re not going with them.”

“You can’t tell me what to do, Derek. I’m an adult, I can make my own decisions.”

“If she wants to go, you can’t stop her.”

“I’m not letting you go with them by yourself. If you go, then I go.”

“Well, uh, not to burst anyone’s bubble but I don’t exactly feel comfortable having you tag along.” Allison shrugs apologetically.

“Why not?” Cora asks, confused.

“Um, large Alpha male I don’t know? My guts screaming no way.”

“You’re afraid I’ll do what exactly?”

“I don’t know! I’ve seen people do some weird things when they thought they couldn’t get caught! I’ve been on the receiving end some times. I’m not comfortable with it.”

“Would it help if you knew I was gay?” Derek sighs.

“That depends. Are you just saying that so you can go with Cora?”

“No, Derek’s as gay as Neil Patrick Harris.” Cora comments, smirking while Derek glares at her.

“Well, I’m cool with it, as long as there’s no friendly fire.” Stiles comments.

“I promise I won’t shoot you.” Cora puts her hand over her heart.

The three then turn to look at Derek, who looks at them like they’re morons.

“Fine. I promise not to shoot you unless you’ve been bitten.”

“Alright. You got everything you need?”

“Wait! I’ll grab a bag.” Cora runs inside.


	4. Chapter 4

“So what did you tell Deputy Reyes?” Scotts asks as he opens up the cell door.

“Does it matter?” The man asks him, no fire or attitude.

“It does to me. Alright, how about this,” Scott sits on the bed across from where the attractive man is lying. “What’s your name?”

“Ethan. Ethan Carver.”

“What do you do for a living, Ethan?”

“I’m a geneticist. You don’t even know what that is, do you?”

“I’m gonna take a guess and say someone who works with genes? DNA, that sort of thing.”

“Okay, you’re not as dumb as you look. That’s exactly what I do. I work for Alpha.”

“The pharmaceutical company?” Erika butts in from the open doorway.

“To the public. Alpha is made out to be the world’s leading supplier of computer technology, medical products, and health care. Which it is, but its massive profits are really generated by military technology, genetic experimentation, and viral weaponry.”

“That sounds like a crackpot conspiracy theory.” Erika scoffs.

“I’m telling you the truth; the ID you took when you confiscated my thing, what did it say?” Ethan asks.

“Alpha Company,” The deputy replies.

“Exactly. I was a researcher for Alpha. I – _We_ created this…thing. This virus. It was supposed to help people. People like amputees. People with health problems. We were trying to create something that would help people recover.”

“What did you guys create?” Scott asks.

“I wanted to scrap the idea, but…the others wanted to utilize it, make tons of money off of it. They wouldn’t listen so I put in a request for a transfer. I got off the project, started a different one.”

“What happened to the original project?” Scott asks, more insistent.

“They ended up calling it the ‘T’-Virus. It’s the thing responsible for the creatures roaming around.”

“You’re telling me the zombies were created from this virus?”

“Yes.”

“And, what? They broke out?” Erika snaps.

Ethan looks down, biting his lip, “No. This isn’t an outbreak. This isn’t an accident. This is…this was on purpose.”

“Bullshit.” Boyd snaps.

“There’s a large mansion, out in the woods. Have you seen it?”

“Yes, the old Spencer Estate. It’s private property, my mother told me it was built in like the 60’s.”

“It was. It’s also a cover. Underneath the mansion is an underground laboratory. It’s where the virus was created, it’s where I worked. It’s…it’s where all of Alpha’s scientists are watching the outbreak. This is a test. They’re filming everything, they’re cataloguing it. They’re going to show it and claim it’s a simulation.”

“They can’t do that!” Boyd grabs Erika back as she lunges forward

“That’s the thing! They can!”

“It’s going to be all over the news!” Erika shouts.

“They’ve got a cover story in place. Before sunrise, they’re going to drop a nuclear missile on Raccoon city, wiping every trace of their crimes off the face of this earth. Their laboratory is underground, so they won’t be effected!”

“They’ll get away with killing everyone? How? How can they get away with that?” Lahey demands.

“The nuclear power station, they’re going to claim it overloaded.”

“So we have to get out of town before they drop it.” Scott raises a hand to quiet all of them, “Tell me about this… ‘T’-Virus.”

“The ‘T’-Virus was a major medical breakthrough, although it **_clearly_** also possessed highly profitable military applications.”

“How does it work?”

“You wouldn’t understand.” Ethan shakes his head.

“Simplify it.”

“Even in death the human body still remains active; hair and finger nails continue to grow, new cells are produced, and the brain itself holds a small electrical charge that takes months to dissipate. The ‘T’-Virus provides a massive jolt both to cellular growth and to those trace electrical impulses. Put quite simply, it reanimates the body, but not fully; the subjects have the simplest of motor functions, perhaps a little memory, but virtually no intelligence. They are driven by the most basic of impulse, the basest of needs; the need to feed.”

“What’s the easiest way to kill them?” Erika demands.

“Severing the top of the spinal column or massive trauma to the brain are the most effective methods.”

“So, we can just…shoot them in the head?”

“Yes, that would work extremely well.” Ethan sighs.

“Then let’s get the fuck out of town!” Erika shouts.

“It’s not that easy.”

“Why not?”

“This virus can’t get out. Can you imagine if this virus got past this city? Into _other_ cities?”

“So we kill all the dead people on the way.”

“Did you listen to what I said? These things, they’re people. People you know. People you see every day. They got infect. One bite – one _scratch_ – from these creatures is sufficient. And then, _you_ become one of them. That’s why this is spreading so fast!”

“So we need to get out of town before the bomb drops and without getting infected. It can’t be that hard. We’ll take one of the cars and drive out of town. It’s only…what? Eleven? We’ve got until sunrise.”

“It’s actually almost one.” Lahey provides.

“There are things _worse_ than the…zombies,” he says the word like it’s ridiculous, and Scott has to agree with his opinion.

“What’s worse than walking dead people?” Boyd asks.

“Those things. The one that chased me and Lahey.” Scott provides.

“I can only assume.”

“It had no skin and large muscles. Its tongue was really long and it used it like an arm to grab one of the dogs.” Scott tells him.

“We code named it ‘Licker’. It’s a genetic experiment. One from the same virus injected into living tissue.”

 “If you got off the project, how do you know all of this?” Boyd pipes up, suspicious.

“My brother wanted to work on it still; said it was where the money was and that I was an idiot for transferring projects. When I found out about the plan for the city, I knew I had to warn people. Murder is not what I signed up for and that’s what this is. Mass murder.”

“Anything else you can tell us? Safety distance? Escape routes? Are there going to be patrols?”

“The closest town is fifteen miles out north -”

“Clidesdale, I know, my friend and I were planning a trip going through there.”

“It should be safe. It’s the reason they picked Raccoon; it’s secluded. There are no escape routes that I know of and they won’t risk showing any operatives face. They don’t want any indication that this isn’t a simulation.”

“Alright then. We know what we have to do.” Scott stands up and motions for Ethan to do the same.

The brunet does as told and stands, turning when Scott makes the motion. Erika protests when Scott unlocks the cuffs restraining Ethan’s hands.

“Why are you un-cuffing me Sherriff?”

“Because we’re getting out of here and you’re coming with us.”

“Bullshit!” Erika yells.

“We’re cops, Erika. We’re supposed to protect the towns citizens.”

“He’s the reason this all happened!”

“Did you listen?”

“He’s lying!”

“You don’t know that!”

“Well I sure as hell don’t trust him with a gun!”

“Then you’ll cover him. He can’t go out there unprotected.” Scott orders.

Erika looks like she’s going to protest before Boyd grabs her arm in a reassuring gesture and she bites down on the inside of her cheek.

“Fine.” She bites out.

“Good. We should visit the armory before we head out. It is, unfortunately, on the other side of the precinct. Thankfully, it’s closer to the garage.”

“That’s a blessing.” Lahey mutters, sarcastic.

“Thank you. For not leaving me behind to die.” Ethan nods to Scott, who nods back.

They set out, crossing the station in relative silence. Seconds after they pass by the front room, a series of explosions rock the building. Boyd and Erika check out the front to find that the entire entrance of the building has blown up from what looks like a home-made pipe bomb.

“Any idea what did this?” Erika asks, pissed, making her way back.

“None.” Ethan replies.

“Alright, lets continue.”

When they arrive at the weapons locker door, they can see that the entrance to the garage has been decimated.

“Someone inside the precinct is blowing things up. Keep an eye out for anyone not with us or any odd noises.”

They enter the locker room and do a sweep. After declaring it safe, they go about collecting what they’ll need. Scott knows Erika is watching the scientist like a hawk.

“Since we can’t get into the garage and we can’t get outside, how are we getting out of the building?” Lahey walks up beside Scott, grabbing a shotgun.

“There’s a grate that leads down to the sewers near the dog kennels.” Boyd comments.

“Oh, I’m suspicious, but that’s not?”

“Boyd works for the sewer company.” Erika glares at him.

Ethan raises his hands in a surrender sign.

“So we can get out of the precinct, find a car and drive to safety?”

“Sounds good to me.” Lahey states, looking around.

“Works for us.” Erika intones for her and her boyfriend.

“I’m following you all.” Ethan finishes.


	5. Chapter 5

It takes the group far longer to get to the hospital than Stiles would have liked, but they do get there eventually. Stiles doesn’t like Derek in the least, but he’s actually really handy with that Shotgun of his. Raccoon City Memorial Hospital is a large building; it’s five stories tall, with multiple wings designated specifically for certain illnesses.

Aside from a stray walker or two, the front of the hospital is eerily quiet and Stiles does not like it.

“I say this is a stupid idea. If you’re trying to get out of the city then stopping at a hospital is the worst idea.” Derek grumbles as Allison takes out the zombie closer to the main entrance.

“Are you going to be a giant ball of negativity the entire time?” Stiles asks, more than done with Derek’s bullshit.

“I’m just pointing out the obvious.” Derek crosses his arms.

“Well keep your observations to yourself.” Stiles snaps as Allison sends an arrow through the second zombie’s head.

“All clear!” The older brunette calls.

Stiles sends one last glare at Derek before walking over to Allison, and the two make their way inside the hospital. The lobby inside is trashed and blood is splattered everywhere. Lights flicker as the struggle to stay on and the smell of decay attacks Stiles’ nose.

“I don’t think anyone is here.” Cora points out, sounding like her brother.

“If you two don’t want to be here, you don’t have to be.” Stiles quickly makes his way across the ruined room towards the nurse’s door off to the side.

“Stiles!” Allison whispers, harshly, and follows him.

Stiles gets to the door and runs his card through the ID scanner. The little red light above the reader changes from red to green with a small buzzing noise. The brunet quickly opens the door and holds it there while Allison quickly steps inside and checks the room.

Cora and Derek are quick to follow, only going in once Allison calls out the all clear. Stiles checks to see if there are any undead following them. When there aren’t, he closes the door and winces at the small buzz it makes as it relocks itself.

“There’s no one in here.” Derek comments.

“Oh, my god. Is it impossible for you to be anything but negative?”

“Stiles, lets’ find Lydia and _go_.” Allison begs, preventing an argument from breaking out.

Stiles glares at Derek for a bit longer before turning towards Allison, “There’s an entire hallway with rooms for the nurses. Lydia’s supposed to be here.”

“How do you know that?” Cora asks.

“It’s standard procedure. If the integrity of the Hospital is compromised, then all personnel are to make their way here. From here we can get to the back of the hospital, where all emergency and staff vehicles are parked while not in use.”

“That sounded like it came from a textbook.” Cora comments to Allison.

“It did. He’s got a nearly photographic memory when it counts.”

“So could a zombie get in here if it wanted?”

“Only if they were brought in here by a nurse while alive and they died when in here. Otherwise, everyone should be alive.” Stiles falters a bit, “At least I hope so.”

“I’m sure Lydia is fine. Jackson’s probably with her.”

Stiles turns his nose up at the mention of Jackson, but he nods anyway. The brunet makes his way to the other side of the front room and through the thick doors off to the side.

The hallways are as destroyed as the main lobby and waiting room, if not more so. Stiles takes point, with a small handgun from Allison’s shop. As they progress down the hallway, they quietly check each room.

When the get to the supply closet, they’re attacked by three zombies. One goes down right away with one of Allison’s arrows through its eye socket. Another is taken out by one of Derek’s shots taking of half its head. The last almost grabs Stiles, but the brunet quickly ducks away before shooting it three times; two in the heart one in the head.

The only person who didn’t fire their gun is Cora, who is behind them quite a bit looking absolutely petrified.

“You okay?” He asks, looking at the youngest member of their group.

“I – I’m fine. Just…uh…I’ve never…I don’t…I campaign _against_ the use of guns. I’m just…I hate all of this.”

Stiles is surprised when Derek walks over to his little sister and wraps his arms around her, comforting her as she tries to hold back her sobs.

Stiles is about to say something to her when he hears a familiar voice.

“Stilinski, is that you?”

Stiles and Allison turn to find Jackson standing at an intersection in the hallway with a small, chrome handgun in his hands.

“Jackson! I never thought I’d be glad to see you.” Stiles calls out, walking towards the biggest bully of his high school class.

“What are you doing here?” Jackson snaps, looking tired and red eyed.

Stiles forgot that Jackson works the graveyard shift at the local news station as an intern. No wonder he looks so tired.

“Lydia said she’d be here and we’re getting out of town.”

“Where’s McCall?” Stiles bites his lip, pained.

“He left his cell in my jeep this morning; I have no way of contacting him without a radio of some sort.”

Jackson just nods, waving them to follow him as he makes his way down the hall.

They get to a room that is, surprisingly, untarnished. Inside, Lydia is sitting on a cot with her arm covered in ace bandages. Stiles quickly rushes over, placing his handgun on the cot and grabbing Lydia’s arm.

“What happened? You said you weren’t hurt!”

“One of the patients got Gilly and I brought her here and one minute I’m treating her and the next Jackson’s ripping her off of me.” Lydia cries, cradling her arm to her chest.

“Oh god, uh, alright, you should let me see.” Stiles gently takes her arm and undoes the blood soaked bandages.

“Who are they?” He hears Jackson ask in the background. He thinks Allison does introductions, but he’s not really paying attention.

He winces as he has to peel the bandage off of the bite wound and he knows that Lydia’s not going to make it. He’s seen plenty of Zombie movies to know that.

“When were you bit?” Stiles asks, trying to remain calm.

“Uh, she bit me about an hour or two ago? After I got off the phone with you everything exploded. Those things came in here in hordes and no one could fight them off.”

“I know, but you’re safe here.”

“But you’re not. None of you are safe while you’re with me.”

“Stop talking like that, Lydia.” Jackson makes his way over to Lydia and stiles never really allowed himself to think that Jackson could – or would – ever cry.

“When did you apply first aid?” Stiles asks.

“An hour and a half ago.” Jackson tells him.

“This should have stopped bleeding then.” Stiles grabs a pair of gloves and slips them on, trying to get a better look at the wound.

“Someone,” He calls out, trying to get the groups attention, “Someone grab a first aid kit. There should be one through that door.” He points to the door that connects the rest room to one of the supply rooms.

“Have you taken paracetamol or anything?”

“No. I didn’t know how it would react. It doesn’t hurt that badly.”

“Lydia, you’re crying. You have to be in pain.”

Lydia shakes her head profusely as Cora come up to him with a First Aid Kit in hand.

“That’s not why I’m like this. Stiles…those things walking around. They’re our friends. These are people I know and have treated. These are -”

“I know.” Stiles tries to smile for her, but he knows it has to come off as forced.

“They’re not even the worst part, Stiles.” Stiles stops the first aid he’s performing to look at her.

“There’s this…thing…wandering around. It’s…it’s huge. It has to be ten feet tall and wider than a door.” Stiles reaches up with his ungloved hand to feel her forehead.

“I’m not delusional, Stiles. I saw it. Jackson saw it, too.”

Stiles looks at Jackson for confirmation.

His stomach sinks when Jackson nods.

“Okay, so there’s a monster roaming around? Great.” He goes back to bandaging Lydia up.

The strawberry blonde turns to the rest of their little group, “You should go gather what supplies you can from next door. You might need them.”

“But be careful.” Stiles calls out as Derek and Cora head into the other room.

“Stiles this is pointless.” Lydia tells him, gesturing to her injured arm.

“I’m not going to let you bleed to death.”

“This disease…this infection is transferred through bites and cuts. I’m done for.”

“Don’t say that.” Jackson sits next to his girlfriend on the cot.

Allison comes up and hugs Lydia as well, looking like she might cry, too.

Cora comes back and starts talking when there’s a huge crash outside the first door they entered through. Lydia freezes, holding her breath while Jackson silently moves in between her and the door. Stiles looks at the door in fear of what he might see.

He silently moves over to the door and opens it just a crack. He peaks outside, down the hall. He sees the thing Lydia had just described to him; it is – in fact – ten feet tall and wider than a door. It’s hunched over, with the back of its neck scraping against the ceiling. The muscles in its right arm are huge, almost as thick as its torso, and there is a large globe shaped clump of flesh growing out of its shoulder. Stiles quickly and quietly closes the door, glad there isn’t a security reader on this door.

He turns around to address the group only to find Derek is gone, “Where’s Derek?” He mouths.

Cora looks around, looking like she’s about to panic, when Derek walks through the door to the connected room.

He’s about to talk when Cora presses her finger to her lips in an urgent manner.

Derek’s shotgun is up and ready instantly as he moves towards Stiles with a curious look on his face.

Stiles motions from his eyes to the door and then shakes his head.

“Are we stuck in here?” Derek mouths.

Stiles presses his lips together into a line and nods.


	6. Chapter 6

When Scott and the rest of their group get to their target destination they’re almost hit with debris as another blast goes off. Scott scowls, making sure Erika – who was almost taken out by the blast – is alright.

“This is getting ridiculous!” Erika yells, pissed off beyond measure.

“I know. I want to know who’s bombing my precinct.” Scott replies, voice strained.

They haven’t run into any undead humans, but they have met with a few more Lickers and something that Ethan had called a ‘Hunter’. Lahey had described it as a cross between a lizard and a frog that had been pumped with too many steroids. The description had been accurate, the only thing Scott felt the need to add was that it walked on two legs.

They haven’t seen any humans – er, uninfected – either.

Which is never a good sign. But Scott counts himself and the people with him lucky that no one has been hurt yet.

Their small little group makes it to the Dog Kennel and the passage that Boyd had said would be there is there. Scott gets Boyd to help him lift the cover – which is heavier than the Sheriff had expected. They’ve got the cover open when the door opens.

Scott looks up at the same time Lahey turns around. The gunshot takes him by surprise. He’s got his own gun out and aimed by the time Lahey hits the floor.

Standing in the doorway is Matt Daehler with a small pistol in hand.

Scott doesn’t hesitate to shoot the drunk when he takes aim at Erika. The Sheriff doesn’t wait for Matt’s body to even hit the floor before he’s kneeling beside Lahey, trying to assess the damage.

He’s alive, but the bullet looks like it’s done a lot of damage to his shoulder. The bones don’t feel like they’ve been broken or dislocated, so all Scott has to worry about is getting the bullet out and getting Lahey bandaged up.

“Ethan, grab Matt’s gun.” Scott’s quickly undoing Lahey’s shirt to get easier access to the wound.

“I have a basic first aid kit, not much, but it’s something.” Erica tells him, handing it over.

Scott takes it, quickly scanning what’s inside. No tweezers or thin utensils to make getting the bullet out easier. Scott sighs, looking at Lahey, who looks like he’s in a serious amount of pain.

“I’m gonna have to get the bullet out.”

“Do it.”

“I don’t have any tweezers.”

Lahey curses under his breath before nodding at Scott to just do it.

And he does, even though it’s gross and it probably hurts Lahey more than helps and he’s more than likely going to have to do this again once they get out of town. When Scott’s sure he’s got most of it, he quickly grabs the small suture kit and closes the wound before wrapping it with bandages.

“That’s the best I can do with what we’ve got right now, I’m sorry, Lahey.” Scott apologizes, helping refashion his shirt.

“It’s Isaac. And you did better than I would have if you’d been the one shot. Nice first aid.”

Scott laughs a bit, “My mom and best friend are both nurses.”

“Hey, McCall. Enough flirting. Get him up and lets’ go.” Isaac flushes and Scott helps him to his feet.

“Can you still shoot?” Scott asks, warily looking at Isaac’s left shoulder.

“I’m right handed so I should be okay. You got any pain killer in there?”

Scott gives him a grim smile, “No, I’m sorry.”

“Adrenaline, don’t let me down now.” Isaac mutters as the other start making their way down the grate and into the sewers.


End file.
